


You Belong With Me

by Whreflections



Category: Torchwood RPF
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, based on an interview story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a younger man flirting like mad with John in the theater cast, and Scott, he's just recently started to get used to the idea of John being his.  He's jealous, he can't help it, and he has to face the fact that maybe,  he just hasn't yet learned to trust John enough.  Based on events mentioned in a magazine interview.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Belong With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AwesomeTeaPanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwesomeTeaPanda/gifts).



> For Amanda, because she posted the article on my wall that inspired it, <3 Without her, this story never would've existed...without her my sanity probably wouldn't either, but that's a whole other thing, :) Love you!

The first thing Scott realized after waking up was that his head was killing him. The second came when he rolled over to burrow a little deeper into the sheets and realized it was Sunday morning and John wasn’t in bed beside him. Everything else followed in a pretty quick jumble after that, a mixture of  _God, I’m an idiot_  and guilt and anger and hurt that was far too much of an overload. He winced, sighing as he brought his hands up to rub despairingly at his temples. Shit, he didn’t even know where to start. The phone rang and he didn’t jerk, the sound familiar, and when he heard his answering machine click on down the hall he realized that was probably what had woken him to begin with.   
  
His own voice trailed off, the machine beeped, and he heard Zach’s voice cut in. “Look, I know you’re probably home and with your boy, just ignoring me, but-“   
  
Scott rolled over with a groan, fishing around before yanking the phone on his nightstand off its cradle and pressing it to his ear.   
  
“What do you want?”   
  
“Well, that’s a nice good morning, isn’t it?” He laughed, continued on before Scott could really start to say anything. “Look I’m sorry, I didn’t exactly expect you to answer, I thought you’d be ‘busy’ but,-“   
  
“John’s not here.” He was a little surprised at how much saying it hurt, a sharp stabbing pain somewhere between his ribs. Shit, it shouldn’t feel like this, should it? It wouldn’t even be a year they’d been together until January. He shouldn’t feel like this already, like this was it and if he lost it…   
  
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Well, of course he’d notice. They’d known each other since their teens, after all. Zach could read his moods almost better than anyone. “You two are alright, aren’t you?”   
  
Tears stung suddenly at the corner of his eyes and he blinked furiously, sitting up quick and hoping the sudden nausea would push everything else back. God, this was ridiculous. “I…don’t know, actually.” He swallowed hard, shifting the phone to his right hand and scrubbing his left hand hard over his face, trying his best to shake off the last of the groggy haze that just wouldn’t seem to leave. “We got in a fight, last night.” To say the least.   
  
“Well everyone fights, don’t they?” He sounded coaxing, so casual and sure of himself and Scott wanted to be annoyed, but he still had enough presence of mind to know that from that perspective, he’d probably have said the same thing.   
  
“I…” Somehow, that didn’t exactly feel like the place to start. “Do you know that kid in the show, Aaron?”   
  
“...eh, yeah. Yeah, I think so. Pretty young thing, looks like he’s barely legal?”   
  
Scott’s stomach twisted, anger building in his chest all over again. “Yeah. That’s the one.” He hesitated, fingers twisting absently in the sheets. “Is…d’you know if…” Fuck, he could hardly remember being this torn. He  _wanted_  to ask, God he did, because Zach was a friend of John’s, too, and maybe he’d have a certain answer but at the same time, he didn’t want to have to ask.   
  
“Ah, I see…sizing John up after the show last night, was he? Well you can hardly blame the kid, Scott, it’s not as if John’s the kind of man it’s easy to overlook, particularly if you’re with him every day, you know?”   
  
“I know, I know that, but…they were… _talking_.” No, that didn’t hardly cover it. Remembering it, something cracked, his anger spilling over just a little. “He was all over him! The kid, I mean, but God forbid John ever take a step back to think how that might  _look_ , and then he’s flirting back with me right there in the fucking hallway waiting on him and…God, I was angry, I was furious, and…and we had this fight, and he says there’s nothing going on and I’m overreacting but I just…I can’t. I can’t watch that and…” He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t know if I can do this.”   
  
“Scott…” Ah, there it was. He’d moved past the ‘it’s ok’ voice and onto the ‘I’m so sorry’ voice. Just then, it didn’t make Scott feel any better. “Scott, the thing with John is, he’s like that, you know? But I don’t think…he’s been around when he was single, sure-“ Yes, that was exactly what he’d wanted to hear, feeling like he was already. “-but I’ve never known him to honestly be unfaithful. I don’t know him as well as I could, I suppose, but I just can’t see it. He’s a lot of talk, you know that. And you know he adores you.”   
  
“Do I?”   
  
“Scott-“  
  
“Look, thanks. Really. But I just…I need to think. My head’s killin’ me, I’ll talk to you later, alright?”   
  
“Yeah, alright. Look, call him, ok? Everything’ll be fine, you’ll see.”   
  
Scott hung up the phone.   
  


‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’ 

**11 hours earlier**

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

  
  
Scott didn’t mind waiting, really, he didn’t. This was John’s ‘thing’, his place. He was more in his element in the theatre than he was anywhere else and seeing him there was something Scott was pretty sure he would never tire of watching. This was the second performance of this particular play he’d been able to catch, and John had been just as magnificent as he was when Scott had come for opening night.   
  
No, the waiting, that he never would’ve minded. What he was minding, though, was the fact that while he stood in the doorway to John’s dressing room waiting on him, John was blatantly flirting with the youngest member of the cast, some kid with blonde hair and blue eyes and an annoyingly nice arse. He couldn’t have been more than 19 at the oldest, and he’d been eyeing John like a piece of meat ever since he’d walked into the room. Of course, it hadn’t helped that just then John had had his shirt off and Scott could actually see the way the guy’d had the nerve to check him out without any attempt at a cover up. He’d cracked a joke, John had laughed, they’d started talking, and Scott had backed out of their way farther and farther until he was pretty sure John wouldn’t have noticed if he was even still there at all. It hurt, quite a bit actually, and for awhile he was more than a little preoccupied with that. That, and trying to remember exactly how John had introduced him. He’d given Scott’s name, sure, but just now he couldn’t remember exactly what else he’d said, and though he didn’t consider himself the type to be overly picky, there were situations where it was only right to introduce your boyfriend as exactly that. Though to be honest, he wasn’t sure Jail Bait over there would’ve cared.   
  
He’d looked away for a moment, and his eyes were drawn back by John’s open laughter, easy and uncontrolled as always. Scott shifted his attention back to the conversation, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned a little more heavily against the frame.   
  
“Well, I don’t know about Bryant, but I think you’ve got the skills to pull it off.” Whatever ‘it’ was. The kid soaked up the praise, ducking his head a little as he smiled.   
  
“Well, I’d say you’re the expert.”   
  
“You think?”   
  
“Definitely.”   
  
God, their eyes were practically fucking. “Well, maybe I could-“  
  
“John?” For the first time in about 15 minutes, John actually looked over and acknowledged him. He was still smiling, and he looked about ready to call him over but Scott cut him off, not at all in the mood. “See you tomorrow, then.” It slipped out without any real thought, muttered tight and angry under his breath, though he knew John had heard him. He hadn’t  _meant_  to say it, exactly, or at least not quite like that, but when he’d opened his mouth he’d realized getting out of there was really what he wanted most.   
  
He turned and headed off down the hallway, hitting the back stage door with enough force that it banged back against the brick to the side, the impact pushing it to start to close even quicker behind him. It had just barely shut and he was no more than a handful of steps away when he heard it swing open again, less violently this time, and John reached out to catch his arm, trying to turn him around.   
  
“Hey, Scottie, look at me, what’s going on?”   
  
That…that was a bit much. He whirled around, catching onto John’s shirt with his left hand, right arm pressed across his chest as he slammed him back into the chain link fence lining the back of the alley. The chain rattled, shaking with the force, and they both stumbled a little from the momentum, leaving John pinned there by his weight.   
  
“You wanna ask  _me_  what’s going on? Why don’t you answer that, John, why don’t you tell me what the  _fuck_  that was?”   
  
John didn’t even try to push him back, not at first, just gave a half hearted attempted at spreading his arms outs in a gesture of cluelessness. “ _What_? There was nothing, I was talking to Aaron and-“  
  
“ _Christ_ , are you serious? Do you even  _listen_  to yourself, or did you just forget I was there? I mean, either way, I don’t really know which is worse, but-“  
  
“Wait,  _what_?”   
  
 _Oh, so finally he gets it. Jesus._  
  
“That wasn’t…that wasn’t  _anything_ , we were talking, joking around, I-“  
  
“Oh please, if he’d thought he’d had half a chance of success he’d have jumped you right then, and you just played right into it, all charm and…” Until now, his brain hadn’t exactly followed all the way through. It had then, though, the fleeting thought nasty and cold and enough to drain all the righteous anger out of him. It was one thing to fight for what was  _his_ , and another entirely to fight for something he was already losing. He stepped back, a little surprised that even under those circumstances he missed the heat of John’s body pressed up against his. “Please tell me you’re not…” He couldn’t even finish it. Having it come to mind at all had been bad enough. “John, you’re not-“  
  
“Fucking him? Is that what you really think?”   
  
 _He_  was angry now and the words lashed out, sharp, and Scott resisted the urge to take another step back. “No, no, I don’t…I don’t  _want_  to, and I didn’t, but now…I don’t know, John, I…” Now, something sick at the back of his mind couldn’t help but question whether he could be absolutely  _sure_. Over the past 11 months he’d never questioned John once, because it had honestly all seemed so unreal almost from the first date. To be honest, what he already felt for John from the first time he met him had been unreal in and of itself, but actually being  _with_  him had been enough to make his head spin. John had come home with him after that first date, and they’d been in a state of practically living together mostly at John’s and a little at his own flat ever since. He hadn’t spoken it, not to anyone, but this...for him, this felt like it was  _it_ , John was the one, and it terrified him as much as it exhilarated him.   
  
“You either know if you trust me or you don’t, Scott, it’s not as if-“  
  
“ _Don’t_  do that, don’t…don’t make this my fault, ok,  _you’re_  the one that-”   
  
“The one that  _what_? I didn’t  _do_  anything, we were just-“  
  
“Talking, yes, you said that, and you’d be fine, would you, if I was looking at another man like that?  _Christ_ , John, what is he, 18?” John came in closer then, almost right up against him and the spark of anger he could see in those deep blue eyes was enough to steal anything else he might’ve said.   
  
“That’s it, isn’t it? You think I want him because he’s  _younger_  than you? Better looking maybe? What, what was it that I said that made you think-“  
  
He stepped back to give himself some space, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “It was no one thing you  _said_ , John, but it sure as hell certainly  _looked_  that way! Like I said, did you even pay  _any_ attention to how that might look to  _me_?”   
  
“I don’t know, not really. I guess I thought you knew me better than to see things that way, but it seems like I was wrong.” He said it quiet, wounded, and Scott shoved the flash of guilt he shouldn’t have felt down, his voice rising again.   
  
“Oh, that’s bollocks and you know it, you’re just saying that now because you weren’t thinking either way; you weren’t even thinking about me all. You were just…” His voice dropped, and he swallowed hard against the hurt that he couldn’t keep from rising in his chest. “I was right there, waiting for you, and you’d completely forgotten I was there. Really, maybe that  _is_  what’s worse.”   
  
He tried to turn around, but he didn’t even make it halfway before John grabbed his wrist, holding him back. “C’mon, I hadn’t forgotten you! I knew you were waiting for me; I loved that you were waiting for me. I always do.” He reached out, his hand fitting against Scott’s cheek, and his touch was mesmerizing enough that Scott almost stayed still when he leaned in for a kiss. Almost. He jerked back at the last second, pulling his wrist out of John’s grip.   
  
“I…” He shook his head, at a loss. He could hardly think of anything except the way it still felt something jagged had been jammed between his ribs. “I can’t talk about this any more right now.”   
  
“Scottie-“ He sounded pained, and Scott didn’t dare look at him because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to walk away.   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
Scott had probably already spent an hour staring at the phone. After he’d managed to shuffle into the kitchen and make some tea he’d sat down and decided he was going to call John, and that was about as far as he’d gotten. He wanted to, God he did, but he wasn’t sure if this was a conversation they should have over the phone, or if John would even answer, or if he should get up and go over there and on top of all of that, his head was still pounding from the too much scotch he’d had last night after he came home alone.   
  
Normally in this condition he’d have been glad the flat was mercifully silent, but he was missing Miss Moneypenny’s nails on the hardwood and the way John sang under his breath while he cooked breakfast. The nights he spent on his own now were so few and far between he couldn’t actually remember the date of the last one and it was a little jarring to see how accustomed he’d come to not really living alone. Jarring, maybe, but not at all unwelcome and no matter how angry he’d been the night before or even how hurt he still felt thinking about it, more than anything else just wanted John there to break the silence.   
  
Before he could stop himself for the hundredth time he reached out and snatched the phone off its cradle, dialing John’s number as quick as he could, his breath catching in his throat as he pressed it to his ear.   
  
The knock on the door nearly made him jump out of his skin, and he dropped the phone back onto the receiver and crossed over to the door, his heart pounding unevenly. He pressed his palm against the door, took a deep breath and didn’t let himself look out before he yanked the door open, pulling it out wide.   
  
Every time he saw him, John never failed to take his breath. He looked tired, only half awake and wearing a white hoodie with an old pair of jeans with holes rubbing at the knees. Nothing special, and still he was stunning. John bit his lip, uncharacteristically hesitant as he leaned against the doorframe.   
  
“I tried to call you, last night.”   
  
“Yeah, I…I unplugged the phone, for a bit.” Sometimes he needed to keep things to himself for awhile, even anger. “Sorry.”   
  
“…can I come in?”   
  
If he’d been less preoccupied with the fact that John was  _there_ , he’d probably have had the sense to let him in before he had to ask. He shuffled back to let him in, sliding the door shut quietly behind him. He was just about to ask him if he wanted some tea(because he certainly looked like he could use it) when John took a deep breath and started talking.   
  
“His name’s Aaron Lewis. He’s 20, but he looks younger. This is his first real show and yes, I think he might be interested in me and maybe I encourage him, but I have  _never_ -“  
  
“I know that.” Suddenly, he didn’t need to hear him say it. “I know you haven’t been with anyone else since we’ve been together, and I should’ve never questioned you on that, because I don’t doubt it, I really don’t.” He looked away, his fingers trailing messily through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “The thing is, that wasn’t even really the problem. More the fact that like you said, you encouraged him. You went right along with him and you flirted right back, and I wasn’t exactly prepared for how much I wouldn’t want to see that. But I’m not…” He swallowed, his arms automatically crossing over his chest as it tightened. He wasn’t going to force John into conforming to anything, not when he didn’t want to. “If this isn’t…” God, he was stumbling all over the place. He looked up, their eyes finally meeting straight on. “I’m…I’m in this, and I don’t ever mind waiting around for you, but I do need to know that  _you_  want me waiting for you, that this is important to you too, because-“  
  
“Of course it is! Look…” His hands closed around Scott’s shoulders, his grip warm and firm and grounding. “I want to be with you. You know that, and I promise, this is important. It’s only you, so long as we’re together, but I can’t promise you that you’ll never see anything like that again because it’s…” He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to tell you, but that’s how it is; it’s how I am. You’re right that I was ignoring you a little, and I’m sorry, and I guess I should’ve been different with him while you were there, but I didn’t  _do_  anything, and I need you to understand that anything like that, I don’t mean anything by it, not the way you think. I need you to trust me.”   
  
Somewhere in that hour he’d spent staring at the phone, he’d started to think it really was going to just come right down to that. John was vibrant and exuberant and so much that he wasn’t, and looking at it like that he couldn’t exactly judge him by his own standards. All the same, it didn’t seem right now that that would make situations like the one last night easier to watch, but it might. He’d have to see, but either way, he knew what his choice would have to be.   
  
His arms slipped around John’s waist, drawing him in tight against his chest, his head dipping to burrow in against his neck. He was still a little cold from the December air outside and Scott breathed warm against his skin, felt him shiver just a little in his arms.   
  
“I trust you.”   
  
“Thank you.” John shifted, his lips pressing lightly against Scott’s cheek and even at that his breath hitched, his grip tightening. John’s hands slid to wrap around Scott’s neck, on tangling in his hair as he held on tight. “We’re ok?”   
  
“Yeah. We’re ok.”   
  
“Scared me when you didn’t answer the phone.”   
  
“ ‘M sorry.” He punctuated it with a kiss against John’s neck, burrowing his face in just a little closer and closing his eyes. “I was just…I didn’t feel like talking about it anymore.”   
  
John nodded, a little absently as his attention had already shifted. He leaned back just enough to take Scott’s face in his hands, brushing their lips together in invitation that Scott immediately took. One of his own hands slid from John’s waist to come up and curve against his cheek, and when he stroked his thumb against his skin at the same time his teeth grazed John’s lip the soft noise he made in the back of his throat was utterly priceless.   
  
They barely broke apart for air before Scott was dragging him back toward the hallway, still holding him too close to really walk properly but too reluctant to let go. They hit the wall, his back scraping against the light switch and nearly flicking it off as John’s weight came to rest against him, his fingers tightening in Scott’s hair as they kissed hungrily. John was dramatic, even in this, and that was one of the many things Scott found so endearing about him. He was passionate and beautiful and so  _focused_  once he made a decision, and Scott had learned very quickly that being the center of John’s attention was a feeling for which there was no comparison.   
  
He tried to take another step back and succeeded only in stumbling along the wall, the momentum just enough to flip them over, John pressed up against the wall with the edge of picture frame slightly knocked crooked by his shoulder. He gasped, his head tipping back to bare his throat, and Scott responded on pure desire, diving in to suck at the exposed skin just over his pulse. He could feel it pounding, speeding up rapidly against his tongue and John’s hands were all across his back, trying to pull him closer everywhere at once.   
  
Scott reached down, his hands sliding just under John’s sweatshirt to rest somewhere over his ribs, and he nuzzled against him, ready to claim another kiss when John whispered against his lips.   
  
“That was actually really hot, you know.” His voice was low and rough with desire, and if he wanted Scott to honestly pay attention he  _really_  shouldn’t have been talking about whatever it was right now.   
  
“…what was?” He couldn’t think of a thing he’d done since John had gotten there that had been particularly  _anything_ , and his brain wasn’t exactly working fast enough to properly catch up.   
  
“You, last night, with the fence. Very determined; I liked it. Well, other than the whole, I had no clue what was going on bit. But objectively when I thought about it later, I definitely liked it.”   
  
Oh. That. Scott leaned a little off of him, resting against one arm pressed against the wall, his eyes downcast. “About that, I just-“  
  
“Hey, no.” John pulled him back in impossibly close, their chests pressed right up against each other, his hand curled around the back of Scott’s neck. “You know what’s yours, and you were right. Even  _I_ might need you to remind me of that sometimes, but you should, because it’s always true even when I might not exactly be acting like it.” He opened his mouth, almost ready to ask if he was sure when John caught him in a kiss, long and deep and enough to leave Scott thoroughly disoriented. “Besides, like I said, you had the whole strong and sexy thing going for you there. I’m always up for that.”   
  
“You are, are you?” Scott pushed his sweatshirt up a little higher, baring the skin just above his jeans, and John shifted forward into his hands, his thighs parting to let one of Scott’s slip between them.   
  
“Oh yes.” He rocked forward, moaning softly, and Scott could feel him press hard against his thigh even with two layers of jeans between them. Scott kissed him hard, swallowing the sound, his teeth biting down gently on John’s lip when he pulled back just enough to gasp against his mouth. This,  _John_ , was his, and while he was almost entirely certain of it was also something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to.   
  
He raked his fingers through John’s hair, turning his head to the side to let him kiss a line from his cheek down to his jaw and his throat, all the while pushing his hoodie higher and higher until he finally had to pull his lips away to take it over the top of his head. He threw it to the floor, catching both of John’s wrists in his left hand and pinning them, his right circling around behind John’s back to pull him in close.   
  
His hand pressed not against smooth skin but over a jagged cut and John hissed a little under his breath, twitching just a little away from the touch. Concern flaring, Scott stepped back just a little, his hand jerking away. “John?”   
  
“It’s nothing, it’s-“  
  
“Turn around, let me see.”   
  
He hesitated, and it was only with a hand on his shoulder to tug him in the right direction that he turned to face the wall, giving Scott a glimpse of the blood red line against the middle of his back. It was actually shorter than it had felt but all the same it sure as hell looked like it hurt and his fingers danced against the edges, soft and careful.   
  
“Shit, John, that looks pretty bad, how did you…Oh, God.” It hit him painfully quick, the weight of the realization suddenly pressing in hard on him and making him sick to his stomach.   
  
“Scott, it’s nothing, really; just a scratch.”   
  
No, no it wasn’t. It was more than that, obviously, and even if it hadn’t been he’d have only felt marginally better. There were things you just  _didn’t_  do, things he’d sworn he’d never do and no matter how angry he was actually hitting John was absolutely one of those things. This hadn’t  _felt_  the same, but the result… He swallowed hard, his throat choking on the words a few times before he managed. “I hurt you. I actually… _dammit_ , I’m so-“  
  
John turned, one hand covering Scott’s mouth as he reached up to pull him back in close. “It’s fine. You didn’t mean to; it’s fine. I told you…” He replaced his hand with his lips, kissing him gently until he responded even a little. “I liked it. Just maybe not a chain link fence next time, huh?” He chuckled, only tapering off when he saw Scott still hadn’t exactly moved. “It’s fine. Really it’s nothing, just a little sore; I’m alright.”   
  
True, maybe it wasn’t much, but all the same the principle of it still plagued him. He’d never wanted to have hurt John with his own hands, not for anything, even if it was an accident. John sighed, shaking him gently before moving in to trace Scott’s lower lip with his tongue, pulling it slow between his teeth to suck on it until Scott couldn’t help but move, his hips pressing against John’s again.   
  
“It’s fine, Scottie, but if it bothers you, I wouldn’t complain about you making it up to me. As long as you do it  _now_.”   
  
He laughed a little at that, at the mischievous glint he could see burning in John’s eyes, and he wrapped him in his arms, careful not to put pressure against the cut. “Bribery.”   
  
“Not hardly! Not unless you were really going to stop there and please,  _please_  don’t tell me you’d actually be cruel enough to stop there.”   
  
Scott chuckled, quieting him with a quick kiss as he rubbed his palms against his chest. “Come on. Bed.”   
  
“But I wanted-“  
  
“You’ll have to be patient then, won’t you?” He took John’s hand in his, squeezing it as he started again to try to walk them backwards down the hall. This time it worked and they made it, Scott leading them all the way over the edge of the bed before stripping quickly and gently pushing John back onto it first. Whatever John had said about liking it  _and_  the fact that hurting him had just been a completely unforeseen accident, that couldn’t do much for how guilty he felt, and right now among many other things(including apologies he was sure John wouldn’t let him make), he wanted to make love to him in a proper bed.   
  
He rolled them over, John’s body resting against his, and he pulled John to him and kissed him as if that alone was all he’d need. In a lot of ways, it nearly was. There was the taste of John mingled with something that had to be honey from tea he must’ve had before he came over, and there was the way John kissed, all open and eager. John’s hands roamed across his chest, settled to squeeze appreciatively at the muscles in his arms, and their hips rocked constantly together, a slow burn that really could’ve been enough for him if they kept it up long enough.   
  
They made it until Scott’s hand slipped low enough to squeeze his arse, John breaking the kiss to moan and bite down on Scott’s shoulder, panting against his skin.   
  
“Scott…”   
  
“Shh.” He didn’t need to ask, not then. He rolled them over, reached over the scrabble in the bedside drawer before turning back to roll John over again, draping his body half over him as he nuzzled against his shoulder, kissing across skin he was sure he’d already nearly memorized.   
  
“Not like this. I want to see you.”   
  
The words alone lit flash fire in his veins, and he turned his head for a kiss as he slid the first slick finger in, catching the appreciative noise John made as he did.   
  
“Later.” He could still hear the way John had hissed in pain when he’d really put pressure on his back, and it wasn’t something he wanted to hear again. “I’m right here.” He mouthed at the back of his shoulder, sucking a light mark onto his skin he knew would be low enough for his costume to hide. He took his time getting him ready, only sliding his fingers away when John cried out, rocking back desperately against his hand. He covered him with his body, easing in slow and reaching for John’s hand with his left to link their fingers together, his right arm holding John close as he started to move.   
  
He meant to start slow, honestly, but there was  _need_  in him that he hadn’t fully realized, brought on by the fight and how empty his bed had felt the night before without John in it. He whispered against John’s ear words that even he couldn’t keep track of, and when John’s fingers tightened around his he almost lost it, his body shuddering.   
  
“John…God, John, I-“  
  
“ _Please_.” Nothing specified, but Scott already knew him well enough to know what he wanted. He fit his other hand against John’s hip, shifted his angle just enough to make John tremble underneath him, clenching around him as he came hard. His thrusts quickened, his movement erratic, and he came when John brought his hand to his lips, pressing a wet kiss against his palm.   
  
There was a t-shirt from the day before lying on the floor at the foot of the bed and Scott leaned over carefully to swipe it up, using it to clean them off a little before he stretched out on his back, John fitting in against his side like he’d always belonged there. Whenever he honestly thought about it, Scott kind of believed that maybe he had.   
  
“Wanted to talk to you about something.” John’s voice was thick with exhaustion, and Scott was pretty well willing to bet he hadn’t slept at all when he’d gone home the night before.   
  
He rubbed his lower back, slow and soothing, and he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It can wait.”   
  
John shook his head, stubborn even when he was clearly only just hanging on to consciousness. “I hadn’t decided how to ask, but…America. Come with me. For Christmas. Please.” His fingers tightened on Scott’s shoulder with the last word, as if by holding on he’d be sure to get a better answer, and even if he hadn’t already been eager to accept that might have been enough to clench it.   
  
“Alright.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Yeah, alright. I’d like to meet them.” He’d heard enough about the Barrowman’s from John to make him incredibly curious, not to mention that outside of the theatre and what they had now, his family was his world, and that was something Scott was eager to be part of.   
  
“They’ll love you.”   
  
“Well, I hope so.”   
  
“They will. It’s easy to do.”   
  
It warmed him, the words buzzing pleasantly somewhere just under his skin. John had only come out and said ‘I love you’ once, and while he could certainly see it in his eyes often enough it was still something he’d like to hear more often. Scott kissed the top of his head again, breathing him in.   
  
“I love you too.”   
  
John’s heartbeat matched to his, and as he listened to the sound of his breath evening out, Scott drifted off. 


End file.
